Struggling like no tomorrow 18 did her best to keep her younger 'sister' in view. "Do it!" She ordered, of the pair Bulma was for the most part the leader of the two, but she had age to pull rank with at times.
"But." Her eyes pleaded, as brave as Bulma's outward appearance was she was usually terrified. 18 knew that she had good reason to be, Gero had focused his attentions on the genius many times, it was a wonder she was sane let alone alive.
"Do it! I know you can!" With that she lost site of her only friend. The two men at her sides were stronger than her and even though she knew they would leave marks on her skin she knew that she would not feel it unless she allowed her sensors to finish their transmissions. But she was taken off guard when they slammed the back of her head into the wall. As her vision went blank she felt her body be thrown over one of the frustrated guards shoulder. All she could do was grunt before she was out cold.
She was not as strong as her blond haired friend, in all truth she was versed more in the mental category of battle. Using their own force, weight, and attacks against them as apposed to her. But when they had her by both arms and held strength she couldn't match at her present state she was helpless to fight them off by force. So she screamed at the top of her lungs in all the languages she knew. Her arsenal of insults were inventive, and many. They had removed the translators from them and both girls had been deaf to their language without them. She gave a grunt when one slammed his fist into her gut, efficiently knocking the wind from her lungs. By the time she had recovered they had shoved her into a room. Both made some remarks and she could not make heads or tales of the meaning. She was sure they were not of the sexual category due to lack of leering and that she hadn't had a bath in literally over a year. He nose was, sufficient to say, numb of her personal scent. 'Kami that hurt.' She thought feeling the already forming bruise. A little higher and at best he would have cracked a few ribs.
Looking around her she could spot the privy corner, the poor condition of the filthy cell. Her eyes adjusted well to the dark and she could have told anyone where anything was in the room. Stretching out she, for the first time, let her body pull every muscle at ease. Before her cage had been too small for such a luxury. In her previous cell she had been too busy conserving warmth. Fights never counted, feeling her body relax slightly she curled up in the corner. She was too tired to think of escape at the moment.
She was alerted from her sleep instantly when the clang of a food dish was pushed through a slot in the door. Moving towards it she could tell by site alone that it was better than what she had been given before. She hadn't seen her reflection but she was sure that they were trying to make her appear healthier by giving her something to add meat to her bones. Sniffing the roll of bread she could find nothing amiss with it other than a little harmless mold. Tearing into it she discovered it to be stale, it was still better than what had been offered earlier or the tasteless mush Gero had distributed to his victims. The meat was relished, even though she could taste the toxin that was to make anyone normally crave water over all. She was immune to it along with the other many 'treats' that had been hidden in her food. They obviously wanted to make a spectacle of her; they were barking up the wrong tree if they thought what they were doing was going to work on her. Looking around she could tell that she had slept well through the 'night' and that it was roughly five-ish in the morning. She was too tired to think about the exact time as she had the week prior. Walking around she found that it was difficult to pace when you had only enough room to make a decent sized closet. Being about six feet by five. In a few days she had begun to notice a few things. Her muscles ached from having so much unaccustomed freedom of movement, she had lost site of a few of her ribs, and that she was bored to near tears. So it was just her luck when the door opened and a cloth-covered figure was thrown into the cell. She moved just in time to avoid being run over by the thing. Once the door was shut she looked to her new cellmate. It wasn't moving. Caution high she slowly made her way to the limp pile of rags. Lifting the bottom one up she revealed more rags two arms, the person was humanoid, there were two armbands with strange markings on them, and eventually a face, one that looked as filthy as she was. The eyes were wide open. 'Oh no!' Putting her hand to the woman's (?) throat she determined that she was sharing a cell with a dead woman…literally. Looking the outfit over she could tell that it was warmer than what she was sporting. And knowing that the dead wouldn't care if she stole the extra clothing…or in this case if she did was unable to do anything about it. Bulma pulled the coverlet off the dead body. 'This thing is a tent.' She thought holding it out and trying to figure out how one wore it. Never did the thought of that the way the other female was dressed may signify something. She only thought of the fact she was for the first time in years, warm. Finding that the part that covered her face was only a giant hood she pulled it back, guilt had formed inside of her. Had she died because she had dodged her, thus she had hit the wall instead of her? Looking back to the body she found that the girl had many broken ribs. A few she had no doubt in that they had punctured her lungs. 'Well I didn't kill her. She got a punch just like I did and wasn't so lucky…or maybe she was lucky.' Her thoughts were dark but that was only until the meal came. And for the first time in an even longer while Bulma was able to fill her belly.
After having drug the limp and stiffening body into a corner she sat and resumed with the only thing she had to do. Listen to the men outside her door and work on figuring out the language. It wasn't easy but she had always been goo at things like this. So far she had figured that they spoke 'standard' or what was the most commonly used tongue. The only thing that saved her was that it was in a way a cross of any languages she knew. Most of what she heard was the night before sex stories and other related tales. She found out that the lizard prick was called Frieze. Or rather Lord Frieze, and that he was very powerful. Though she had already known that, she could sense ki. Obviously that was not such a common thing in space. Not that it had been on her planet but with her group of friends it was a relatively common thing.
Back to the topic at hand, she found out that they just were being lazy and hadn't found a buyer in need of a scrawny arena fighter such as herself. She was dozing when the door opened. Before she could move she found herself thrown over the shoulder of a guard. He was making comments about the monkeys she was going to. After a few moments she figured out that he thought she was the other girl. 'Meaning he won't expect me to be any danger. Time to escape.' With the cloak covering nearly all her body she had no fear of him seeing what she was doing until it was too late.
"Stop squirming or I'll let you have it like before." He ordered as she felt her spine twist into a new shape. So this was the killer of the rotting corpse in her cell.
'Save me on the guilt of killing him.' She felt the itch of hair sprouting and piercing of her claws forming on her paws. No longer did she possess hands and feet. Flicking her head back she threw the hood off her newly formed muzzle, he only saw the wildcat head before she clamped her jaws on his throat. He tried to scream but she had ruined his vocal cords. Keeping her teeth clamped together she felt him die in her mouth. When done she backed up, licking her chops she gave a low growl. Blood was pooling around her kill but she dared not stick around. Turning tale she hardly noticed the trail of paw prints she was making. Each one blood red for the reason she had stepped in the pool. It was awkward to move, her clothes were still on her body, making free movement difficult. She dared not rip them or she would be in the nude when she returned to her human form. Keeping in her form she had yet to ever know what she looked like, she knew her fur was black as coal, and that she resembled a cougar. But she was bigger, and more powerful than any cat of the wild that was of Chikyuu. Looking around she soon found the room she wanted, the control room. Using her tale to hit the pad the door soon slid open, revealing an empty chamber. Letting it close behind her she let her body resume its natural form, always she had to force her tale to retract, it became more and difficult to complete the reverse process. It always became difficult when she wanted to rid herself of the tale, so she in turn refused to transform unless she had no other option. This had been one of those few, rare times.
Quickly figuring out how to use the computers surrounding her she cherished the feeling that she was doing what she had been born to do. Looking over the slave records she quickly found herself and 18. Finding where 18 was she saw that it was to a fight ship. Just as ordered. Glancing at whom she had been sent with she found no familiar names. Following up with 18 she was amused to find that she had already been sold to another ship due to impudence. 'This could get annoying.' She thought finding out where the older girl had been sent to, she nearly balked when she saw the first name under her friends.
Chi-Chi PanàRank one fighter.
What do you think? Was I busy or what? Review. You know the drill.
~BUM~